


Murphy's Law

by Atsvie



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fluff, Kittens, M/M, Superfamily, kitty!Deadpool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/pseuds/Atsvie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Wade learns anything from being turned into a sickeningly adorable kitten, it's that little mutant girls are not to be trusted. And maybe that Peter is too trusting, but hey there's no way he could have known that the stray kitten he adopts happens to be a transformed Deadpool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy's Law

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff before the dark!fics. Every fandom needs an animals transformation fic, guys.   
> Thanks so much to trollzio for being my amazing whip wielding beta. Also, thanks to Mandylasers whose art inspired Kitty!pool and for letting me reference her kitty!pool.

Wade Wilson isn’t too fond of mutants.

Despite that he claims to be one, he’s choosing to play along with the manufactured-mutant argument because at the moment, mutants are not exactly at the top of his list of favorite chaos wreaking people. Take that X-Men, Deadpool doesn’t want to join in your reindeer games anymore.

‘I wonder if they would be more likely to let you in like this.’

_‘Nah. They hate you no matter what,’_ the other voice in his head retorts.

“Meow,” Wade says in agreement, sniffing at a red paw curiously. He even sounds adorable. No question about it, he would have to make that little mutant girl pay for this. Deadpool isn’t _cute_ , he’s sexy and suave—or so he tells himself.

He most certainly is not a shivering kitten that looks to be from a pound.

From his feline point of view, the streets are wide and busy with a stampede of people nearly stepping on him every few seconds. Murphy’s law tends to follow Wade around like a ball and chain though, because shortly after the mutant girl ordeal, the gray clouds overhead began to shower the city streets and drench his fur.

‘ _Maybe you should think before you kidnap a kid and shoot her dad in the face.’_

It’s worked every other time, he thinks to himself, pressing his body against the brick wall in hope that the slight ledge above will provide some shelter from the downpour. Every other time, the child hadn’t been a mutant that had a knack for transfiguration, though. Really, Murphy’s law has just outdone itself this time.

As adorable as he’s sure that he is as a kitten, Wade really doesn’t want to remain in the tiny feline body. Meaning that he needs to think of a well developed plan—or rather, think of something and then roll with it. That’s more his style. Considering that he’s now incapable of human communication and said humans stomping past him are failing to decipher his mewls, he’s thinking he’s going to have to do this one on his own.

‘You could go find that girl and scratch her eyes out until she changes you back,’ one of the voices suggests helpfully.

_‘Ohhh, yea because a red and black kitten is menacing. Let’s just give him a sword and watch as he goes cat ninja on everyone.’_

Wade meows in slight offense. He could absolutely be a threat if really wants to, he just doesn’t really know how yet. The entire cat situation is still a fresh problem and he’s not really sure what cats without owners do. What do they eat besides the over glorified canned food they advertise on TV?

He seriously considers whether he can eat Mexican food as a kitten or not. The thought brings him into an immediate panic; a life without chimichangas just isn’t worth living! Nevermind the lack of opposable thumbs and inability to communicate, he’s going to star _ve_ to death.

‘If we could hold a knife, I would stab you in the face right now.’

Wade decides, without the help of the voices insisting that he test the nine lives theory out in the middle of the street, that his first priority is food. His kitten legs wobble slightly as he attempts to walk, but manage to weave through the trampling feet towards an ally close by.

So far, he’s really not enjoying his experience as a kitten. He’s being rained on, he’s cold and terribly hungry. If he were capable of learning any kind of moral from this, it would most likely be that little mutant girls are not to be trusted.

However, he does have a home turf advantage. Even as a tiny, drenched ball of fur, he knows how to navigate the streets on instinct. His favorite Mexican joint is near by—and surprisingly enough, he is able to ascertain that just by the strong scent of beef. Heightened cat senses, he could deal with that.

It would still be a lot more bearable if he had been turned into a tiger or something of that sort though. A kitten is just such a blow to his ego. Of all things, he’s become a frail, helpless kitten that can’t possibly do more damage than to scratch at someone’s ankle. He couldn’t be larger than one of Wade’s guns and more than likely looks something akin to a stuffed animal.

That’ll do great for the intimidation factor.

The kitten saunters into the alleyway saturated with strong scents of spices and meat. Wade is going to rock this cat thing, he decides, because he’s still going to be just as badass and nothing is going to get in his way. Not when he’s pretty sure that smell is coming from the trash bins next to the exit of the restaurant. The food will be his.

To his utter delight—or maybe it’s karma finally catching up with him—there are two large dogs pushing their noses into the trash that he had been planning on pilfering through. The larger of the two is a black hunting dog breed with a short tail and large jaw, while the other with matted gray fur, is smaller and definitely scrawnier than his companion. They’re both at least three times his size and look to be strays that don’t seem to be keen on sharing their food.

‘ _Plan of attack?’_

‘Ask nicely?’

Somehow he highly doubts that the dog will understand him anymore than the stupid humans. Animals are more instinct oriented, body language and scents. And if anything, Wade is _the worst_ at communicating through body language because every bit of it comes off as cocky and very much so not intimidating.

The element of surprise is his best bet. Quietly as a clumsy kitten can move, he patters past the two hungry dogs and jumps up so that he can peer over the edge of the trash can. There’s about a yard between him and the dogs, and hopefully they’ll be too busy digging through the trash to notice that he’s making away with some of their food.

‘You’re so dead.’

_‘Hey we’ve got eight lives left after this.’_

Pawing his way through the trash, Wade mewls happily to himself upon discovering a half eaten burrito oozing with bright yellow cheese. Jackpot. Granted, this isn’t his ideal choice of a meal, but then again he’s also been through a lot worse than this.

As odd as it is, he honestly can’t say that being turned into a kitten is the weirdest thing that’s happened to him.

Regardless, he struggles to pull the coveted burrito out of the bin with his teeth, paws braced against the edge of the can. The weight of the burrito is a bit too much as he pulls it back with all of his might, and sends the kitten flying back into a pile of trash with a noisy crash. So much for subtly.

By the low growling that follows, he’s certain that this isn’t going to end well.

He lands on a few compressed cardboard boxes and scrambles to his feet, only to be met with the two large dogs staring at him with what is probably a glare as far as canine looks go. His meal is about a foot away from him, having already caught the attention of the strays as they pad towards it, watching him closely.

Like hell he’s going to let them take his food! Wade hisses, fur bristling in what probably looks more pathetic at his size than threatening. That’s his, he found it first! With a leap and little thought, the kitten dives for the burrito with an angry screech. The dogs bark at him, posture lowering into a pounce. All Wade can think of is that he’s going to die for a burrito—as a kitten.

Actually that would be pretty awesome, he just hopes Death doesn’t make him a pet.

The black canine swipes at him with his paw, jaws snapping viciously and barely missing him. However, he is knocked back by the impact, yowling unhappily as the other dog nips painfully at his tail. That would definitely leave a mark, he thinks as the mutts back him up against the wall of the alley.

Except he’s pretty sure whatever damage that had been dealt is already starting to heal. Go figure. He’s an indestructible cat.

Still, being mauled by dogs _hurts_ , even if he can’t actually die from it. Now he’s being mauled by dogs while watching them scarf up his burrito. Just when he expects to be picked up by one of the beasts, he hear a low growl followed by a whimper—and a voice.

“Shoo, get away from here! Bad dogs!”

Wade swears he knows this voice from somewhere.

But he’s also delirious and on his last leg at the moment, so he could be wrong.

The dogs are scared off by the human savior though, running off with their tails between their legs. Oh he would make a witty comment about this if his kitten ribs weren’t reattaching themselves and he had the appropriate communication skills.

“Are you okay, buddy?” The familiar voice softens and the boy lowers into a crouch to assess what had been done to the kitten. “You’re a funny looking thing. Never seen a red and black cat…but I’ve seen some weird stuff. You have a home?”

Wade seriously wonders why this kid is talking to him like he’ll pleasantly have a conversation, but people tend to get weird about animals so he doesn’t question it and graces him with a weak meow. It could have been a yes or a no for all the kid knows ( _‘or a fuck you’)_ but he’ll let him take it however he wants as long as it means he gets some food.

The kid is a lanky teenager with big brown eyes that send a wave of something pleasant through his tiny body. Maybe just because it’s something safe, and he could use that now. Regardless, the kid just looks like the stereotypical good guy, if not a little dorky with a sheepish grin and mop of fluffy brunette hair.

And there’s just something so _familiar_ about him.

“C’mere little guy. Let’s get you somewhere dry,” the boy says, reaching out slowly to lift the kitten into his arms. Wade is tucked gently into his jacket, cradled against his arm and chest. It’s warm and undeniably safe, so he’s content to let him do as pleases. And maybe he nuzzles up against him—woah now, is that a purr? Alright, that’s a purr but he blames it on the kitten instincts while the voices snicker mockingly.

.

.

Fifteen minutes and a one sided conversation later, Wade finds himself poking his head out of the warm jacket and looking up at the Stark Tower.

_‘What.’_

“Home sweet home,” Peter, as Wade had learned on their walk over, says. Who introduces himself to a kitten is beyond him, but so far the kid has been quite adamant in coddling and cooing over him. “I don’t think Dad will mind if I bring you home, they’re out on business tonight anyways.”

Wade nuzzles his head against his arm like he understands.

The tower had been obnoxiously large before, but as a kitten staring up at it, it seems like it transcendsinto the sky. Technically, Wade has been inside before, but that was business and according to records, he was never there. So it’s still interesting to see the interior as Peter takes him into the elevator.

When the elevator opens, they’re met with a modern living room that looks far too expensive for a teenager to be living in. In fact, he’s pretty sure this belongs to Stark, but he’s confused to why the hell a kid is in his home like he owns the place.

‘Plot twist: Stark has an illegitimate lovechild.’

Or something.

Peter navigates them to a long hallway, going straight for a door on the left into a very teenage room. In some ways, at least. Like the clutter of personal items and dirty laundry littered across his bed and the floor. There’s text books strewn across the room and a desk overflowing with gadgets and papers. Well furnished and only half interesting as far as bedrooms go.

Wade is carefully put onto the bed while Peter leaves, telling him he’s going to grab a towel to dry him off with. He curls up, figuring that much worse could have happened than to be rescued by an over zealous teenage boy. Bored, he paws at the comforter of the bed, dragging it back and catching a familiar red and blue texture.

_‘That would be Spidey’s suit.’_

Peter comes back with a happy grin and Wade just stares back at him in disbelief.

Really, it’s like Murphy’s law had been made for Wade Wilson.


End file.
